


Of Far-Off Meetings

by Atlantia



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Sky High (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Confusing, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlantia/pseuds/Atlantia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Warren Peace never existed, Fate, and Dust, will go to any lengths to bring Will and Warren together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Far-Off Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefrogg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrogg/gifts).



The last thing Will remembers before waking up, is watching the flaming exhaust of Baron Battle's engines as they seemed to disappear into the space between atoms, then the sudden coruscating flash of a million colours, parting around him like ribbons in the sky.

With his eyes closed, all he can immediately determine is that he must still be somewhere in the Arctic, as he can feel the chill of snow melting under his back, seeping through the thin material of his costume. Even though it couldn't kill him, the chill was unpleasant, and slowly he started the small movements that they'd been taught in class to determine if he had somehow been injured. When all his limbs seemed functional, he gradually cracked open his eyes, wary of the harsh light reflecting off the arctic snow and wanting to make sure he didn't suffer immediate blindness to his surroundings. After a few moments, once his eyes slowly adjusted, he lifted a hand over his head as a shield and took in his surroundings.

The wreckage of Baron Battle's craft was scattered across the ice and snow, some of the fragments sinking into pools of newly melted water, others belching black smoke into the clear northern sky. Of the man himself, there was no apparent sign, but Will knew better than to count him as dead. Although he'd evidently been rendered unconscious somehow and hadn't witnessed the crash, he was familiar enough with the Baron's transport shuttle to know that, until he saw the corpse, he'd have to work under the assumption that Battle had survived.

He staggered to his feet carefully, brushing slush and fresh snow off his costume. The bright red slash across his chest and the brilliant blue cape stood out harshly in the pristine white landscape, so he swiftly unclasped the cape and let the wind take it, lest he make himself an obvious target. It disappeared in a flurry of snow, and was gone over a small rise almost before he could blink.

The nearest piece of wreckage was nothing but a pile of slagged metal, too small to possibly contain a human body, so he bypassed that and slipped and staggered his way to the most promising part of the fuselage. He didn't dare try and fly without knowing better what his situation was, but being as careful as possible, he was able to lift the piece of wreckage up enough to see that there was no sign of the Baron's fate within it.

With a groaning creak, he let the metal settle back into the snow, where it was already being buried by fresh gusts of white. Within an hour or so, he thought most of the craft would be gone.

"Who are you and what are you doing?" The voice is sudden and sharp behind him, with a gravel undertone that immediately sets him on edge and makes every muscle tense. Baron Battle had a reason for flying so far north, and when the nearest town was hundreds of miles away, a random person stumbling upon the crash was unlikely. Whoever they were though, they'd obviously not identified him yet, but the red slash across his chest would make his identity obvious to whoever the person was, so he made no attempt to turn to face them. Instead he just slowly raised his hands out to his sides to show he wasn't carrying a weapon. 

After a power-neutralising supervillain had crashed his Sky High graduation party, his mom had kept trying to convince him to carry something as a backup plan. But now, two years after graduation, he still hadn't touched one. A fact that never ceased to make his father proud, and disappoint his mom.

"I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm just trying to find the person who was flying this plane." Behind him, there was a sharp intake of breath followed by the crunch of hesitant footsteps as they moved to the side, trying to get a look at his face.

"What's a plane? And where's your daemon? Get him to come out where I can see him." The voice sounded as though it was getting more concerned, which was likely to result in unpredictable actions, so Will carefully turned his head to try and get a read on the still unknown stranger.

He'd been expecting a guard, a super villain, even another hero drawn to the crash site. He wasn't expecting to see someone his own age, dressed in an outfit far too tight and tattered for the weather, whose dark brown eyes stared at him with a look that said he'd seen far too much for someone his age.

Will recognised the look from his mirror.

"There's noone else here that I know of. I'm alone." Brown eyes narrowed with mistrust, as the wind whipped long back hair around the other boy's head.

"No one's alone. Where's your daemon hiding? If you're hoping to keep me talking long enough while he sneaks up on me, it won't work. Blaze will smell him long before you can hurt me." Even as his mouth is opening to ask who Blaze is, there's a soft crunch at his feet and as his head snaps downwards he meets the piercing yellow gaze of a snarling white wolf.

"Where is..." The comment is cut off as the other youth takes a further step to the side, where he can make out the brilliant red on the front of Will's costume, and he draws in a stuttering breath. A cautious hand reaches between them, until a touch that is far too warm for their environment rests against the crimson streak that divides the white of his costume in half.

" _A pure warrior, split with blood..._ " The whisper is snatched by the wind almost before it's been formed, but still it seems to echo across the frozen wasteland like the idle thoughts of a slumbering god. Will feels a chill go down his spine that has nothing to do with the weather, and for a moment, it seems as though all the warmth in the world has died except for the hand pressed against him.

For a second, maybe two, that heat pulses through him, then the boy in front of him staggers back as though he'd been hit. He barely makes it four steps before he stumbles to the ground in the drifts of snow, but his breaths come as though he's run a marathon. In front of him, the wolf stands its ground, but the snarl vanishes, and the canine eyes seem suddenly alight with questioning intelligence.

Will slowly lowers his hands to his side, unsure what exactly is going on but recognising that the threat seems to have evaporated from the encounter.

"Are you alright?" There's no answer to his question, and he cautiously eyes the wolf in front of him trying to see if it will let him approach its master. Consciously, he knows the wolf can't hurt him, but subconsciously, where old instincts still dwell, the sight of so many teeth, attached to a fierce, wild creature, gives him pause.

Slowly, he lowers himself down, until he's closer to eye level with the beast and, pretending it's just an enormous dog, he carefully extends his hand towards the dangerous looking muzzle and lets the creature breath him in. There's a moment where he and the wolf seem to size each other up across the foot or two between them, then he moves his hand forward.

Off to the side he hears a gasped cry of "What are you...!"and then his fingers are tangling in soft strands of fur as a moist tongue briefly swipes across his wrist.

"How dare you!" A hand shoves at his shoulder and he overbalances backwards into the snow, staring up as the boy comes to stand beside the wolf. "Have you no manners at all? Touching a daemon without permission?" He doesn't understand what's happening and what is being said, so all he can do is shake his head helplessly. It looks as though the other youth will have something further to say, but then the wolf turns to look at him and he stops with his mouth barely opened. They stay like that for a frozen moment, man and wolf, and then the fight seems to drain straight out of him.

" _A pure warrior, split with blood, will show the way through ice and ash._ " Brown eyes turn back to look at him and for the first time, Will watches as they seem to actually take him in from top to bottom.

Will's always known that since he became a hero people gazed at him with an appreciation that went beyond thanks for saving them or their city. But for some reason, by the time this particular stare has returned to his face, Will can feel the heat suffusing his cheeks, and has never been more conscious of the fact that all that separates his skin from that look is a thin layer of nearly indestructible spandex. He takes little solace in the answering blush that floods the other boy's cheeks as he too realises what he's doing.

A hand is thrust roughly out at him, allowing him to pull himself out of the slush and snow, and it burns just as hot as it did against his chest, which only makes the heat in his cheeks even worse.

"I'm Warren. Warren Peace, and this is Blaze." Will quickly looks towards the wolf, disconcerted again at the intelligence that seems to rest there.

"Will. Will Stronghold." The name is said before he has a chance to remember that he shouldn't be revealing his secret identity, but there's no hint of recognition from the other boy at either his costume, or the name.

"Well, Will. It seems our paths were distined to cross here, if those crazy witches can be trusted." The intensity of the stare directed at him ratchets up several notches. "Somehow, you're going to help me find my father." Will isn't sure how to respond to which part of the absurdity that is the strangeness of the last half an hour, so he asks the only question he can think of.

"Who's your father?" For some reason they're still holding hands, and the warmth feels so good as it soaks up through his arm, that Will decides to wait for Warren to let go first.

"I don't actually know," it takes Will a second to process the bizarreness of that remark, "but I met a girl once who told me I had to keep looking. She kept telling me over and over that I had to look, while staring into this little gold box. She sent me to the witches for answers." Warren's thumb makes a small movement across the back of Will's hand, and then lets go, sliding up his arm and gently fingering the silken spandex where it covers Will's bicep.

"The witches said I had to go north until the only direction left was south, and that along the journey I would meet someone who would show me the way." Will frowns, trying to think through the unexpectedly distracting brush of fingers against his arm.

"Show you the way to your father?" Warren nods, but his gaze is fixed on his own hand, where it tugs on white fabric. "How?"

"They said he'd be looking for him too." Lightning shoots down Will's spine, and he looks quickly out at the burning and smoking wreckage around them, a sinking feeling in the bottom of his gut.

"I don't..." Warren never lets him finish, placing the entirety of his other palm across Will's lips, as though he can trap whatever knowledge is there forever. He's suddenly much closer and his eyes burn brighter and hotter than anything Will can remember, and for some reason he sees Warren alight with flames, consuming everything around him.

"We've got plenty of time for questions Will." Warren glances over his shoulder at the same wreckage Will had just surveyed, gently removing his hand. "Will, who talks of planes and wears clothes I've never heard of. Will, who stands in the coldest place on the planet and never even shivers. Will, who claims he doesn't have a daemon. For you, Will, there is plenty of time for questions." Warren smiles at him then, a smile that is somehow simultaneously chilling, and gives Will a rush he's never felt before.

"After all, you never said why you were looking for someone here." The smile turns into a grin, as Warren's eyes narrow.

"and I never told you exactly why I'm looking for my father."

Fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thefrogg,
> 
> I really hope you had a lot of fun reading this. I had an enormous amount of fun writing it. I loved "His Dark Materials" when I read them in school, although that was a number of years ago now, and I had to mess with canon on both sides to try and get it to fit, but I love the outcome.
> 
> It may seem a little confusing, but I hope that the final result conveys what it needs to. Besides, I think allowing for a little bit of personal interpretation is a good thing :) I hope you read into it what you will!


End file.
